Bless Me Father
by SageK
Summary: Confession is good for the soul


_Bless me Father, for I have sinned_.

_It has been 7 days since my last confession_ _and these are my sins_

He'd said these words so many times over the years, it was as though they were engrained into his soul. In the past, confession had been a relief, allowing him to unburden himself of some of his internal strife. It wasn't a cure all, he was a smart enough man to know that, but he did believe that God was benevolent and forgiving.

Jack knew priests were far more fallible and wont to disapproval.

After returning from Iraq, he'd made his confession to Father Travis, and the man had not looked at him the same since. The older man judged him for his actions, for making the choice to take a life in order to save another, something he, as a chaplain, was not supposed to do.

Now, he knew there was no way he could truly receive the sacrament of penance. He knew he had sinned. A priest who is in a state of mortal sin should seek to confess as soon as possible and refrain from celebrating the sacraments until he has done so. At least, according to the word, if not the spirit of his faith, and that only compounded things. To celebrate Mass or receive Communion while in a state of mortal sin is to commit a sacrilege.

He was torn between the life he knew and the path he knew he should follow. The vast majority of his adult life, he had dedicated to the service of God and had done his best to act in accordance with His wishes…though, sometimes, Jack felt the Church office did not act in the intended spirit of their faith. Still, despite his occasional questions of policy, he'd known no other life for a very long time. Even as a soldier, he'd been a priest, the padre, a friend, but held apart, even when not wearing the white collar of his office.

But he was still just a man, subject to the same requirements of sanctity and state of grace as every other Catholic. And for a man of faith, he could feel the weight of his sins sitting on his shoulders.

Fear, worry, anger, guilt, bitterness, hate, stubbornness - all sins of mental attitude. Lying, criticism, cursing, arguing - sins of the tongue. And those were just the small things.

Murder. Sure, Anna's army of eggs were about to hatch, hunt them down and kill them, but taking any life was a mark on a person's soul. Self defense or defending another might excuse some of the guilt, but it was still a moral burden.

Disobedience. He couldn't bite his tongue any longer, couldn't turn a blind eye to the danger looming above them all. Father Travis had warned him, told him to toe the line, only spout church rhetoric, but he'd had to speak from his heart. Had to say and do things he knew would not be looked kindly upon by his superiors.

Revenge. Georgie. Alex. Joshua. Val. Fifth column members he'd never met. There had already been so many deaths. He knew he shouldn't, but he wanted to strike back, blood for blood, en eye for an eye. He generally wasn't an Old Testament kind of guy, but he could understand its merits.

Lust. Since meeting Erica, that first glance across the crowded warehouse, he'd mentally strayed down that path more often than he could recall. Which had surprised him, because he was normally very good when it came to impulse control. That sort of train of though could only lead to bad places…good places, really, but places his vows would not allow him to go.

As he got to know her, feelings grew deeper, became far more real, far harder to ignore than simple physical yearnings. In some ways, the emotional connection was a double edged sword. He felt truly blessed to connect with someone like that, to feel warmth and comfort from her presence alone. But it also made denying the existence of such feelings much, much harder.

_For these and all the sins of my past life, especially for my sins of hate I am truly sorry._

Because, for the most part, he wasn't sorry for these sins. He couldn't be. They were living in a very dangerous and complex world, carefully balanced and all these things that some would damn him for were done with either good intentions or because they were impossible to deny.

Jack opened his eyes, raised his bowed head and looked around his Spartan room. A large rucksack sat open on the bed and a Bible lay on the desk, a letter beside it. Pushing himself up from the chair, he picked up the fine, linen paper again and stared down at the words.

…_.been informed of your public disagreement regarding Church doctrine…speaking against the directed message of the Church…allegations of conduct unbecoming an ordained officiate…dismissed from the clerical state, laicized…forbidden to exercise ministerial functions, but indelible character is held to remain on your soul, as is sung at ordination, "You are a priest forever, like Melchizedek of old"…Go with God…_

He had never regretted becoming a priest. He always felt it was his calling and even when there had been dissent he'd never felt trapped. It was the life he had chosen and now it had been stripped away, leaving him vulnerable and bare in a way that was entirely unfamiliar.

It was terrifying, but cathartic at the same time. Not to say he thought everything in life was predestined or that man had no free will, but he thought that certain events happened and how you reacted to such occurrences shaped who you were and who you would become. He accepted that, when these events happened, he had to make tough choices and adapt.

He'd made his first such decision at 17, when he had chosen BC over UMinn. Then there was the choice of grad school or the seminary. Serve at home or abroad. Then the V's…hold his tongue and toe the line or do what he felt was right. Following his instincts had served him fairly well thus far, so that was what he had done…which led him to the present.

And he was going to choose not to allow this circumstance to ruin his life. If it was His will that Jack no longer serve in the priesthood, then that was that. How Jack chose to live his life now was up to him.

Folding the letter, he tucked it into his Bible and tossed the book into his bag, shouldering it and stepping out of the room without looking back. Father Travis had made himself scarce, clearly not wanting to have to face Jack, as he was obviously the one who had made a call to the archdiocese.

Jack didn't hold any anger in his heart toward the older man. It wouldn't serve any purpose and he knew the priest was just doing what he felt was right.

And really, wasn't that the only true way to live?

He looked up at the church as he walked down the front steps, the steeple rising above, a symbol of the a past. The future…well, he'd just have to wait and see how things unfolded.

_Bless me Father, for I will sin_.


End file.
